Vinick gets on his plane and sees Jane smugly sipping coffee. How is it that literally every single move this woman makes is done smugly? Does she ever have a moment of downtime? Although I kind of enjoy imagining her waking up, brushing her hair in front of the mirror, and observing, "Damn, I'm good." Vinick dryly observes, "I thought you were going to stay at headquarters." Jane smoothly replies, "I got tired of being ignored." Vinick sends Randomly Now Ubiquitous Staffer Annie to go get "that thing" the doctor gave him for his hand. Jane snottily reports that Santos's plan is working: he's drawing people in by talking about energy and casually mentioning San Andreo. Wow, Jane, even if you are, in fact, right about everything, I can't imagine why people are ignoring you. Nobody likes anything more than being told that they are idiots who are doing their jobs wrong, especially when it's coming from a bitchy brand-new addition to the team. If you're trying to make people do what you want, here's a hint -- don't antagonize them right off the bat, mmmkay? Bob ignores Jane, which I love, and jumps in to go over their schedule, which includes running into Santos in Philadelphia that night. Bruno jumps in to say that no one is supposed to shake Vinick's hand, and when a baffled Annie asks how they're supposed to enforce that, Bruno stutters and shoves it off on the advance team.
Annie has just fitted Vinick into a giant blue brace that goes to his elbow. As Vinick struggles one-handed with his glasses, Jane launches into a speech about how they have no strategy to get back their lead. Vinick observes, "I thought the gay-marriage nonsense was your strategy." She assures him that he's opposed to gay marriage, but he asserts that it's an issue with nothing to do with federal law. They get snippy with one another, Vinick taking the idealist argument that no one should care what his view on gay marriage is, and Jane that everyone cares about everything. Poor Vinick tries to open a packet of sugar for his coffee and it bursts all over the table, which is clearly frustrating for him, but the sight gag made me giggle. Not one to have an emotion that isn't wrapped in superiority, Jane attacks Bruno's fifty-state strategy. Bruno attacks Jane. (Verbally, though I wouldn't be unhappy if this became a catfight full of girly hair.) They didn't need to focus on the South, he tells her; Vinick should have had a stronger hold there, yada yada boring. As the fighting continues, Bob joining in, Vinick just sits and listens, paging through his notes. They've moved on to yelling about California, Bob saying that things will be okay there, Jane arguing not. I am going to say a little prayer and do an interpretive thank-you dance of joy when this campaign storyline has ended. Vinick calmly breaks in to let them know that he won't win back points in California by catering to the right. Jane butts in, and Vinick interrupts her to say that they already tried her strategy of campaigning in the South. She's convinced that it stopped the bleeding, and that Vinick needs to do more to get the conservatives on his side. She yells, and yells, and yells until Vinick leaves the room and slams the door in her face. Man, that was satisfying.
Back at Vinick's camp, Annie lets the candidate know that the San Andreo conference is set for noon. Bob gives Vinick a couple of evening event options, mentioning, to Vinick's surprise, that Santos will be at one of the events. As Annie works on taping up his hand, Bob suggests that they go to the San Diego event, where Santos won't be, but Vinick interrupts him to say that they're going to L.A.: "I want to get in his face. I want Santos to see if he wants to take California, he's going to have to rip it out of my hands." In that thoughtful, endearing way of hers, Jane comes in and announces that it will look like Vinick is chasing Santos. Bob points out that they can't change a trip they've already announced; Jane pounces and desperately tells them that they can get out as soon as possible. Vinick shoots her down. There's a shot of Bruno, quietly observing and looking sly, and nonchalantly putting the briefcase he found down on a chair. Vinick, meanwhile, lets loose on Jane for attacking everything he's doing, asserting that he doesn't have a fifty-state strategy anymore. Now he only cares about one state: California: "The one state that has everything: big cities, small towns, mountains, deserts, farms, factories, fisherman, surfers, all races, all religions, gays, straights, everything this country has. There's more real America in California than anywhere else. If I can win California, I can win the country." (Woo! My home state!) Jane shoots Vinick down, letting him know that all of the other states in the union don't agree about his idea of the Sunshine State.
Bob tries to stop this tired routine. (Yes, tired: even though Jane's barely been on the campaign, they can't have any other conversation than a variation of this one.) Bruno just looks on like a mischievous little lass. Jane resorts to pleading the one thing she cares about -- that Vinick should not to go to San Andreo. Instead, Jane urges him to go to his hometown of Santa Paula. (Hey, that's near where I grew up! In high school, that's where everyone wanted to take their driver's test because, short of running over a small child, anyone at all would pass the test on the first try. Sadly, I've heard that they buckled down a bit on this in the past few years and that you might need some actual skill now.) Vinick stands tall, insisting that he needs to face the problem head-on, and pretty much shuts Jane down. He dismisses her: "We'll talk about Florida tomorrow night. If you're right, then they'll be chasing me out of California by then." Everyone but Bruno files out of the room.
Ignoring small talk, Vinick asks Bruno if he's crazy. Bruno's reply is, "It's been a tough couple of weeks." Nice answer; I guess that means yes to the crazy? Vinick, still struggling with his one good hand, clarifies that it's been a nightmare, and as he's mumbling, Bruno jumps in to say that this race would have gotten close no matter what happened. Vinick just laments the numbers, saying that, before the accident, they "had this thing locked." "Still do," Bruno replies quietly, picking up the briefcase. Vinick is eating grapes -- a food he can actually handle -- and retorts that Bruno now sounds crazy. Bruno sets down the briefcase, and Vinick leaves the room, remarking that it isn't his. Bruno replies that he knows, and that it belongs to Santos. Understandably, Vinick goes about his puttering, not believing Bruno for a second. There's a bit of back and forth until finally, Vinick asks, "That's really Matt Santos's briefcase?" This after Bruno has admitted to opening it up to find out its owner. Immediately, Vinick says, "I don't want to know anything more about this. I want to be able to say I had nothing to do with this. I didn't know anything about it." He can't believe Bruno stole the briefcase, but Bruno protests that he found it, rather than having stolen it, but Vinick points out that Bruno didn't give it back. I think there's something funny there in those semantics, but my brain is too fried from how BORING THIS EPISODE HAS BEEN to come up with anything. Bruno's smart, and playing this without saying much. Vinick comes to realize that the reason Bruno must still have it is that he found something in it, but Bruno only counters that Vinick didn't want to know. Well, that's usually a ploy when dealing with a kindergartener, but equally effective this time. The struggle plays across Vinick's face, and Bruno tells him, "It can make you President."
Vinick starts to crack, saying that he needs to speak to a lawyer. Bruno tells him that, with what they've got, the election is in the bag: "So, you do not have to go to California tomorrow, and do that painful press conference which is gonna play like the nuclear accident was somehow your fault." He goes on, convincing Vinick that he can campaign on his own terms, and not appear to be chasing Santos. Bruno starts to describe the contents -- in particular, a journal -- while Vinick yells at Bruno not to tell him. Way to make the decision for him, there, Bruno. This journal contains dates, and meetings, and notes: "What he really thinks about the Vice-President, what a bad campaigner he thinks Leo McGarry is..." Do you really, as a presidential candidate, carry around notes like that? I know it's your personal stuff, but don't you have a tiny bit of discretion, just in case things happen just like this very situation? And ouch, since Leo did save Santos's ass in his VP debate.
The journal, however, is not the interesting thing. There is a checkbook inside, very plain, with just "M. Santos" and no other information on it, from which a regular check has been written each month to someone named Anita Morales. It seems that there was an Anita Morales working for Governor Santos in Houston nine years earlier. Vinick is silent. Bruno eggs him on: "Come on, you've heard the rumors about Matt Santos." "There are rumors about all of us," Vinick says softly. Clearly uncomfortable, Vinick asserts that they need to give back the briefcase, while Bruno details the scandal that would erupt -- the media, the paternity test, etc. "We can't do this," Vinick tells him. "I can't do this." I applaud him for actually being the bigger man here. ["Not that it takes much doing to be a bigger man than Bruno." -- Wing Chun] Bruno is all goodness and light, telling Vinick, "I work for you. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do," so Vinick orders him to give the briefcase back to the Secret Service immediately. But Bruno plants one last seed, saying that this could be the "tip of the iceberg" of Santos's secrets. Bruno suggests that they sleep on it and discuss it again in the morning. Vinick is silent, upset and indecision on his face. "Just tell me what you want me to do, Senator," says Bruno. Vinick's still silent a moment, and then says, "Keep it." Bruno knocks the table and heads out, and Vinick looks mildly ill, though that's kind of his face every day now.
In Fresno, a crowd screams for Santos, and Lou is updating someone on the phone about what a great crowd they had in San Francisco earlier that morning. And holy tattoos, Lou! At the risk of turning completely into my mother, is that at all appropriate for a campaign? Everyone is dressed neatly, and she's in a black tank and leather cuff watch, body art gracing both arms. While this is a great weekend look, I'm thinking that crunch campaign time deserves, I don't know...sleeves? She's assuring Josh over the phone that they have a ton of cameras out there, and that they'll "rule the six o'clock news," despite there being no live coverage at the moment. Everyone is feeling great, and Santos is Mr. America, helping catch a balloon that a kid nearly loses. At headquarters, Bram and Otto walk into a room with the Fresno news on behind them, and a story about Santos becomes a lead-in to the Vinick press conference. Bram places an urgent call to Josh, who reports it to Lou and orders her to get Santos some coverage. On TV, Vinick is doing his San Andreo press conference. He tells the assembled media in front of the nuclear plant that he just took a tour, assures the public that it's safe, etc. When Josh realizes Vinick's topic, he calls Lou back a moment.